


“When was the last time you slept?”

by spicykitkatbar



Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicykitkatbar/pseuds/spicykitkatbar
Summary: A prompt sent to me on tumblr for Arthur and my oc Grace. May become a series as I answer more prompts.





	“When was the last time you slept?”

**Author's Note:**

> A friend sent me a sentence prompt on my writing blog for Arthur and my oc Grace, who (in a fic I’m currently writing), is the gang’s doctor. I went with this being set after Arthur was captured by Colm and Arthur and Grace’s relationship has been established.

It’s one of those nights where sleep is hard to come by and she lays there wide awake for what seems like hours. The rest of the camp is quiet, mainly everyone being asleep, safe for Charles and Javier, both seeming on edge after everything that’s happened. Maybe that’s why Grace can’t find sleep either. Her mind drifts to the events that happened recently, her mind going to Arthur and the trauma he had gone through. She remembers him returning back to camp, in so much pain he could barely speak. She remembers the fear most of the camp felt as they helped Arthur back to his tent. And the blood… god there was so much blood covering his body from recent gunshots, not to mention the poorly cauterized wound on his shoulder. How she even patched him up was beyond her, because she knows the entire time she was working, her hands were shaking and her eyes had been wet with tears, for she was terrified of losing him. 

She can’t lay in her tent anymore, now that her mind is preoccupied with said man, and she decides she has to check on him, despite how late it was. 

The campfire is dim, and she has to step over a passed out Uncle to make her way across camp, being sure to avoid walking to close to where Hosea sleeps, not wanting to wake him. The lantern on Arthur’s wagon is like a beacon as she creeps closer, her eyes drawn onto it like a moth to the flame. Grace is silent as she steps under the caravan, her eyes immediately raking over Arthur’s face, seeing that he’s sleeping soundly, something she didn’t think she’d see after the pain he was in. She knows he’s also been plagued with nightmares, so it was relieving to see that he’s finally getting some well deserved rest. He never got much sleep, hasn’t since they fled Blackwater, and she wishes that he would rest. Arthur carried too much weight on his shoulders and it made her sick to her stomach at times. 

Silently, she sits at the chair by his bed, her eyes remaining on the relaxed lines of his face, watching him sleep with a smile smile upon her lips. Her fingers itch to reach out and brush the hair that lays on his forehead, to trace over the scar on his chin, but she knows that would wake him, and she can’t have that. 

Though, it seems her presence alone wakes him. He doesn’t startle awake, but his face twitches and his eyes open slowly, immediately locking onto her face before he lets out a soft huff. 

“Sorry,” she says as his eyes close briefly, her fingers brushing his cheek as she moves closer to him, feeling terrible for waking him.

“It's’okay,” he breathes, voice still rough and raspy with sleep, his eyes meeting hers once more, a soft and sleepy expression on his face as his hand covers the hand she had on his face, holding it there with a gentle sigh. “I know you’re worried, darlin’,” he murmurs, making her heart melt as she looks down at him. 

“I didn’t want to wake you… I just had to check on you.”

He hums, thumb brushing over her knuckle as he grasps her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss at her palm, “No need to worry about me, darlin’. ‘m fine.”

She doesn’t respond at first, her mind spinning as she once more replays his return after being tortured by Colm O’Driscoll, biting her lip unconsciously as her eyes go unfocused. 

“Grace,” she hears his voice distantly, but the images in her mind are so vivid as if it was only yesterday verses a few weeks. It’s his hand cupping her cheek that has her back, her gaze meeting his almost immediately. He smiles fondly at her, his eyes warm as he whispers, “Hey there.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes again with a scoff. “I think the lack of sleep is getting to me,” she adds, leaning into his touch. 

His thumb brushes the curve of her cheek, gently despite the thick calluses on his fingertips, his eyes full of understanding, “ **When was the last time you slept?** ”

The question shouldn’t make her laugh, but it does. Coming from the man who rarely slept, she can’t help but find that amusing and sad, because again, he carries so much weight on his shoulders, that she doesn’t understand how it doesn’t push him down. How it doesn’t tire him to the point of collapsing. She lets out a wet laugh at that, her eyes now downcasted as her hands rest in her lap, fingers playing with the strings of her shawl. She can feel his observant gaze on her, but she can’t meet it, not yet. 

“I can’t remember… it’s probably been days,” she whispers, trying to remember when she actually got any sleep since the scare of losing him. Despite being in the clear now, she’s still terrified of losing him. “Sleep won’t come, no matter how hard I try.”

Blue hues lift then, meeting his under the dim yellow light casting on him from his lantern, and she sees the look of understanding and worry crossing his handsome face. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need too, as he takes her hands in his, shifting so he’s resting on his side now as he once again brings her shaking hand to his lips to press a kiss against her skin. 

“‘m sorry, Grace,” he breathes into her skin, making her breath hitch. “But, please don’t worry ‘bout me anymore. ‘m alive and I ain’t going anywhere any time soon.”

“Arthur…” she starts, her voice low as she leans towards him, her forehead brushing his as she closes her eyes. “I’ve been afraid that I’ll wake up… and you won’t be.”

He makes a sad sound at her statement, the noise rattling in his chest as he looks up at her with those saddened green hues, and she lets out a deep sigh. 

“I know it’s stupid and that you’re alive but… Arthur, I was so scared.”

His hands cup her face then, his forehead against hers and she feels her entire body relaxing under his touch, leaning into his warmth as he stays there, not a single word passing their lips. Her hands grasp onto him, holding onto him as if this would be the last time she could touch him. They remain like that for a few moments before he pulls away. 

“Come here,” he tells her in a soft, hushed tone as he lays back on his cot, and she immediately moves, carefully manoviering her body over his so she doesn’t hurt him, knowing that his shoulder is still bothering him despite him trying to put on a strong face. She nestled into his side, her back to the wagon as her hand settled on his chest and her face is tucked under his chin. He wraps his unwounded arm around her, fingers running through her blonde locks as he presses his nose to her temple, inhaling deeply; while his other hand grasps hers, intertwining their fingers, knowing it will calm her. Grace can’t help the hum that leaves her throat at that, pressing her cheek into the warmth radiating from his chest, her body relaxing against his as her eyes drift closed.

“You can rest now, Grace,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep again, and she finds that she can’t argue with him nor fight it any longer as she melts against him, worry leaving her with the light breeze that filters throughout camp. Her mind shuts off then, just reveling in his warmth and soft embrace, a soft smile crossing her lips as she moves her head slightly to press a kiss against the exposed skin of his chest before pressing her face into his neck, making him hum in response. 

They fall asleep like that, tangled together, their bodies resting as one, as if they were always meant to be. And for a while, she stops worrying about him, comforted by the thought that Arthur is alive. That he’s there holding her, that he’s there. Safe and sound.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was short and I didn’t describe Grace very much, but it was something I wrote for a friend. I have more prompts for these two to answer but I’m trying to get my fic out before I answer more. Hopefully it’ll be up soon!
> 
> tumblr:  
> artymorgcn (main)  
> kvandmuses (sideblog for writing)


End file.
